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Tag Archives: rest

I did not go into a church today, but I worshiped nonetheless. I worshiped with my hands in bread dough. I scraped tiles and washed dishes in the spirit of Francis of Assisi. I communed with Spirit sitting outside in January sunshine. I rejoiced as I tasted the fresh bread, breaking it with my daughter. I danced, and sang (some praise songs, some pop songs. Even ‘Never On Sunday’…) I was in gratitude, and release, and rest.

Note: No, I don’t live in the Caribbean, nor did we fly there for winter break. Yesterday I received free tickets to a large, expensive, busy water park near my place. Though a great many of the outside attractions were closed ‘for the season’, the Lazy River which flows through the park was heated and the huge interior pools, spas, slides, and play areas were all accessible. Delicious to be outside in winter weather, bare-shouldered, and feel the elements licking at you with the safe warmth just a stroke away…

A precious gifting of time, art, and sheer essential wisdom from my on-the-cusp-of-ten daughter. Yes, I cuddled her up and smiled at her through tears, and we touched each other’s face tenderly and absorbed the loving energy.

Can you, too, take this message for yourself – I know she wants to share it – today, this evening, now? Take that encouragement and affirmation for yourself, hold and enjoy it.

YOU can do it. I love you. You ARE lovely, unique, beautiful, special, and surely on the road to greatness! Don’t forget to take time to Rest (it’s a good idea).

Brother David Steindl-Rast (was) the nearest thing I had to a really wise person in my life at that time or at any time since. We would read German poetry together—he would translate the original text, I read the translations, all the while drinking the red wine. But I had my day on my mind, and the mind-numbing tiredness I was experiencing at work. I said suddenly, out of nowhere, almost beseechingly, “Brother David, speak to me of exhaustion. Tell me about exhaustion.”

And then he said a life-changing thing. “You know,” he said, “the antidote to exhaustion is not necessarily rest.”

“What is it then?”

“The antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness. You’re so exhausted because you can’t be wholehearted at what you’re doing…because your real conversation with life is through poetry.”

It was just the beginning of a long road that was to take my real work out into the world, but it was a beginning.

I’m thankful that we live on the edge of town, on the flanks of the hills, that trees and moss and ferns surround us and that I don’t have to look at concrete and glass all day, or breathe city fumes. Here is a snapshot from my walk into work: a bit of greenery this morning, to refresh the eye and the soul.